Absence of Time Pt. 1 (The End of Time) Songtext

Oh, commit to your sins and your prior engagements, stick to them like when you picked up cigarettes,
now dance around houses falling into beds,
don't you justify to me what's wrong.
so darling what is wrong?

A calendar dresses like a clock,
with robes of black, and spinning hands,
it calculates time through falling sand.
its never that precise
The measurements although obscure, act as a guide throughout the year,